


The Tale Older than Time

by kitkatthedragonborn



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:42:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 20,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21959050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkatthedragonborn/pseuds/kitkatthedragonborn
Summary: This story follows Araina, a spider/human hybrid who has been around since the beginning of time as she finally learns the most important part of living. Not good at summaries, may have my brother or sister help me fix it later.
Kudos: 2





	1. Prologue

Anyone who has created anything knows how important it is to have a rough draft, a model, or some sort of trail/beta period to make sure all the bugs are sorted out before the final version is complete and widely usable. What most people don't know is that the Earth needed one too. A trail period, that is. When the creator was originally designing the different life forms, he realized that they would need some sort of guide to start them off and make executive decisions for their daily functioning. Therefore, with each group of life forms he created a hybrid caretaker: half the organism, half in his image. We call ourselves the ancients. I, myself, was created for the spiders.

Of course, we have certain abilities tied to our purpose. Because of my arachnid side, I, obviously, can produce silk and climb near any surface. I also have very enhanced physical capabilities. However, the most important thing you should know is that I semi-immortal. We all are. What I mean by "semi" is that there are ways we can die. First, we can fall in combat. This is the primary reason we all learned to fight pretty quickly and continue to train after all these centuries. Second, if we so decide, we can remove our core, giving up everything that makes us special and resolving us to a human life along with all their vulnerabilities. 

You may ask why anyone would do that. I have been wondering that myself for centuries. They say they fell in love, usually. Others get bored and want it to be over. Others still are so adventurous that once they feel they have explored/experienced everything, they decide to give it all up so they can have the ultimate experience: a human life and, eventually, death. 

Oh! I forgot something! You don't need to worry about our job being unfulfilled should we lose our lives. As it turns out, we only needed to directly participate for the first few centuries. In that time we set in motion not only how they would live their lives and respond to stimuli, but also an evolutionary pathway that would continue to fix problems in correlation to changes in the environment. After that, the creator believed the Earth to be ready and relieved us of duty. Now we just do whatever we want. For a long time we stayed together and in the public eye. Name nearly any religion of the old ages and we were a part of it. My least favorite was Greece. They hated me. Called me Arachne and said I belonged in Tartarus with the rest of the monsters. 

I'm getting off topic. Anyway, after so long our numbers started to thin. Hordes of us were losing our lives willingly. Eventually we got tired of watching our friends die and split up. Some still wanted to be in the spotlight, but most of us didn't. Now I go where I want when I want. I show up, have my fun, and am gone before anyone gets to know who (or what) I am. After some time I lost all touch with the other ancients. I am not sure if there are any left. 

I suppose that confuses me most of all. Who would want to give up all this? Life is beautiful. I love participating, but I also love watching. Humans are my favorite. I can never guess what they will do next. They invent such wonderous things like parties and dancing. I am a free spirit, able to revel in every moment. All I can see is beauty and to let go of all of this is unfathomable to me. 

It is now what the humans call the 21st century, and I am writing this because certain things have come to pass and I am unsure how much longer I will be here. I suppose I am a bit narcissistic, but I don't want to be forgotten. I wish for my story to continue forever, at least in some way, and I believe the best way to do that is to write it down. So here goes nothing.

My name is Araina, and despite what it may seem, this isn't a story about the beginning. This is the story of how my world ended right after it finally started.


	2. A Chance Encounter

I feasted with the Vikings. I sailed and fought on the high seas with the pirates. I was feared by the Greeks, worshipped by the Celtics, and largely exaggerated by the Egyptians. I danced across the middle ages into the modern period. I have seen civilizations be built as well as crumble into oblivion. I sound powerful and godlike, but don't be alarmed. I may have been around since the beginning, but I have lived a life of indulgence. I exist to find entertainment wherever I may. I revel in all the pleasures mortals create. It truly is an eternity well wasted. Don't get me wrong. I have no regrets. I've loved my life and I see nothing wrong with living for your own enjoyment. It's just that I have finally realized that life can be better. Life can be more. In fact, if you find the right reason, even death can be better. I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start where my life irrevocably changed for the better.

The year was 2017 when I found myself wandering through some woods in Nebraska. Honestly, I was just frolicking after a beautiful Crane Watch Festival. My mind was in the clouds, as usual, when I suddenly was no longer on the ground. My vision was flipped and there were these white strings partially obstructing my newly upside-down view. I was in a trap! This definitely was not good. 

Oops! I forgot to explain that too! Sorry. I have never really written anything before, especially not something like this, and it's hard to remember that people won't know things that I have been aware of for millennium. Yes, you are right, if I wanted to get out of the trap, it would be very easy to cut it with one of my knives. If it wasn't owned by anyone. For you see, there was a sort of failsafe the creator put in when he released us from our duties. He feared we would grow too powerful and try to take over his precious creations. Therefore, he made it so if any creature were to capture us, they would have full control over us. We would not be allowed to resist. 

This worked well to quell insurgencies through the ages. Those captured were passed to their descendants for ages in fear of what would happen should they be released. That is, until a human decided to make a deal with one. Thus, a blood pact was struck that should the ancient grant the mortal his heart's greatest desire, the ancient would be free of that mortal's control forever. Once word spread of this deal, similar ones sprouted up across the world and all those captured were free once more. Since then, there have been a handful of instances in which humans have captured ancients to have their wish granted, but not too many. We aren't THAT easy to catch.

Unfortunately, I haven't thought about capture in a long time, so I wasn't on my guard at all. At first, I was in shock that anyone still remembered about us and what we could do. Just as quickly, I realized that wasn't possible. This was an accident. I didn't know what to do or how I would go about explaining everything. After a few hours of debate, I decided to just let him see my true form and allow the conversation to stem from there, so I shifted and waited.

I couldn't have been there for more than a few hours when I heard something off in the distance. I turned to look with my enhanced vision, and I saw a man in the distance, threading through the trees as though he had hundreds of times before. He probably had if the integrity of the trap I was in had anything to say about it. The closer he came the more details I could make out. The first thing I noticed was his color. He was a beautiful brown, probably a mix of African and Hispanic ancestors. He was also bundled up, which makes since as there was snow on the ground. He was probably cold. He carried a rifle in his hands and had two rabbits slung over his shoulder. 

The last thing I noticed was the most stunning part on him: his eyes. They appeared to be a whirlwind of color, yet darkened by exhaustion and years. I only got a second to really study them when they were transformed by confusion as he realized I wasn't an animal. Then fear. Then hate. I figured I should let him sort through his emotions before I started talking, so I waited.

When he finally composed himself enough to speak, all he said was "No."

"What?" I replied.

"No," the mystery man repeated, "There's no way the fates hate me this much."

"The fates? I think you misunderstan-"

"NO!" he cut me off, "I'm not dealing with this! Not now, not ever!"

"May I at least explain some things to you first?" I retorted, starting to get slightly annoyed, but still curious at this human's actions. 

"I don't want to hear ANYTHING you have to say, FREAK!" he shouted as he raised his rifle and pointed it at my head. 

"That won't do anything to me," I warned, but he didn’t listen. He proceeded to unload all his ammunition in my face, which was annoying to say the least.

"Are you done yet?" I replied snarkily, enjoying the confusion and horror on his face. Hey! You can't blame me. He DID just greet me with bullets to the face. I believe that to be the proper action.

"Wha- How- Wh- Why aren't you dead?" he stuttered.

"I can only be killed in combat. As I obviously wasn't engaging you, this wasn't combat." I stated matter-of-factly.

After a dumbfounded pause, he finally asked the big question, "What ARE you?"

"I am an ancient. The ancient of spiders, in fact. But you can call me Araina," I stuck my hand out for him to shake knowing full well that he wouldn't when I realized I was still upside down. After letting my hand hang there for a second as he started at it like it had just strangled his puppy, I let it drop and said, "Would you mind if I got out of this? It is quite the uncomfortable position."

"Why would I- Wait. You can get out of that?" He questioned.

"Of course. I just need your permission," I responded.

"Why would you need my permission?"

"Well, as you have captured me, I am now under your dominion. I cannot leave or disobey you until I grant your wish," I explained.

"So, you're like a genie?"

I rolled my eyes. "That myth was based on us, yes."

"Oh. And is that supposed to make me like you?" He retorted, returning to his earlier hostile attitude.

"It tends to make mortals happy, yes."

"Well I don't. If I can't kill you, then I will at least keep you somewhere you can't hurt anybody."

That threw me off. "Hurt any-" I started before he cut me off again.

"Shut up! I don't want to hear you say another word," he raged before abruptly cutting the rope holding me up, and almost making me slam my head into the ground. I sat there as he tied my hands together and then to his wrist before picking up his things and trudging back through the snow in the direction he came from with me in tow. 

'Oh well,' I remember thinking, 'This is going to be interesting.'


	3. Indefinite Lock-down

After walking through the snow for a while, the mystery man's silence became borderline unbearable, so I decided to attempt to break the ice. 

"Will you at least tell me your name?" I ventured. Taking his unremitting silence as hesitance I continued, "Mine is Araina, if that helps, though people usually take to calling me Ari."

"Jacques," He grunted in reply. 

"Really? Can I call you Jack?" I asked intrigued by his answer.

He abruptly stopped and turned towards me. "No," he snapped. "Only my family gets to call me that." Then he immediately began to walk again with renewed vigor. I sighed, realizing that was all I was going to get out of him on this walk and half-stumbled after him. Eventually, we arrived at a road with a single rusted white truck parked off the side of it. He rather unceremoniously threw his catch in the back, then tied my tether to the inside of the bed and indicated that I was meant to follow the kill. 

I rolled my eyes, as there was a perfectly good seat in the front, but I understood why so I didn't complain. For some reason this man saw me as detestable and/or a threat. Although I could not fathom why or what experiences he could have had for him to react so violently, I figured it wouldn't hurt to make this easier for the both of us.

As he drove, I took in the sensations. The snow-covered tree-tops, the birds flying overhead, the soft chittering of wild animals frolicking in the woods, the crisp wind in my face, the smell of bark, though covered by the scent of death from my vantage point next to his hunt. All these marvelous things that I spent so much of my time just appreciating the delicacy and beauty of whizzed by way too quickly this time. Here, without his watchful gaze on me, I finally began to let myself think about what was happening. This man obviously did not want to strike a deal. He might keep me locked up for his entire lifetime. I supposed I could find a way to live with that. 

What if he passed me on like they did in days of yore? I didn't think I could survive that. Cecily (the butterfly ancient) used to tell me stories of how it was during her captivity. They were horrid to even imagine, much less live through. Those memories ended up being a main casual factor in her decision to kill herself. That terrified me, but I couldn't compromise my pride. I had to act calm and collected and show I was in control of the situation. That may be my only shot at coercing Jaques to let me go. 

I pondered my situation and all the options that came along with it until we pulled up at a rather nice moderately sized house in a semi remote location. It was near the town, but also obstructed from view by a decently sized patch of forest. This placement struck me as odd, and I resolved to ask him about it if we ever got on speaking terms.

Jacques turned the car off and climbed out of the front seat rather routinely, but as I came into sight he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"What the JESUS!" He exclaimed rather humorously. "You can- Why did you do that?" He asked with very exaggerated motions.

At first I was confused, but then I looked at my reflection in the glass and realized I had unconsciously slipped back into my humanesque form. I shrugged and replied, "Habit," in a rather monotonous tone. 

"Oh yeah? Like how it's apparently habit to act so flippantly when you've just been captured?" He asked.

"What do you mean?" I returned. I thought I was panicking a great deal, but maybe that was only internal. 

"I mean your incessant questions and the way you keep shrugging off everything like you can't be bothered," he replied, clearly agitated. I almost shrugged again when I caught myself. I hadn't even realized I had been doing that. "I mean your incessant questions and the way you keep shrugging off everything like you can't be bothered," he replied, clearly agitated. I almost shrugged again when I caught myself. I hadn't even realized I had been doing that. 

"Whatever," he huffed, grabbing at the animals he had caught as well as my tether. "Come this way before anyone sees you," he said, hurrying me into the house. I barely got any time to take the layout of the house in, as he was already ushering me through the living room and kitchen toward the back of the house. He stopped by a door next to the stairs and fiddled with his keys to unlock it. 

I quickly looked around while he was preoccupied and noticed two things. First of all, the house was nice. He was making a good amount of money. Second, it was empty. Now, I'm not saying he didn't have anything in there; it was rather well furnished. However, it somehow felt unoccupied. It gave more of the feeling of a business than a home. 

I looked back at Jacques right as he got the door opened and wondered if he was lonely. That would help explain his attitude. That is the moment that I started to feel a connection to Jack, even though I didn't realize it until much later, for he was just as lonely as I was. 

I didn't have the opportunity to dwell on it though, as he was already pulling me downstairs into a basement. Once we were down inside, he shut and locked the door before turning the lights on and continuing down the stairs to the floor where I was looking around at the shelves. He sure had a lot of hunting stuff. Jacques immediately went to a shelf near the front and pulled out a lot of black rope, then turned back to me. 

"Get over there," he said in a voice that I assumed was meant to be authoritative, but kind of quivered with fear at the end. I wanted to spare his pride, so I didn't comment on that and went obediently over to where he pointed, which was a bare wall with metal hooks coming out of it. 

"Do this often?" I teased as he started securing my hands to the hooks in the wall. He paused briefly to send me the most disgusted look in the history of the world, but then elected to ignore my comment and finished the job. 

"There. That should hold you," he commented more to himself than to me. I wanted to let him know that, no, it couldn't; I could get out of this at any time, but he had already scurried across the room, up the stairs, and into the room above before I could even open my mouth. He slammed the door shut and locked it in what could only be called a panicked frenzy before hastily retreating somewhere else in the house. 

I was amused for a little while, before I was reminded of my situation. Slowly, but surely, the dark thoughts returned and threatened to drown me in a tide of emotion. I have to say that was the first time I had cried that millennia.


	4. An Unusual Breakfast

Thankfully, Jacques didn't return that whole night, so he didn't see my moment of vulnerability. Sometime during the night, I managed to pull myself together and muster enough courage to face whatever came. It must've taken longer than I thought it had, because before I realized it, I heard Jacques waking up and preparing for the day. Realizing that he was up made my anxiety start to rise, but then I reminded myself that perhaps this was a chance to talk to him again, so I held myself together and waited. In about an hour a rather delicious odor wafted down to me. I was only beginning to take it in and attempt to guess what produced it when the door to my cell unexpectedly swung open. There Jacques hesitated in all his tired eyes, bed headed glory before he mustered up the courage to descend the stairs. Funny, I thought, how we are both apprehensive of each other. That's when it really hit me that he wanted to be in this situation about as much as I did. 

"Morning," he greeted me in the deepest voice he could muster. I would be lying if I said it didn't strike me as comical how he was attempting to be intimidating which still in his pajamas, but I managed not to laugh. I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face, but I'm not sure what he made of that. 

"I brought you breakfast. Figured I wouldn't starve you or anything," he said while stretching one of the plates of food in his hands out to me. Then he got a puzzled look on his face and stared at my hands for a long time. It took me far too long to realize that he was apprehensive about untying me.

"You know I couldn't leave or hurt you if I wanted to, right?"

My statement seemed to stir him out of his reverie. "What?" he asked.

"You captured me. Ancient law dictates that I mustn't do anything harmful towards you or yours, nor am I to leave your possession until I fulfill your deepest desire." I explained again, hoping he would catch on this time.

"Oh," he said, though he still seemed hesitant.

"If it helps, I don't need to eat. Sure, I will begin to feel hungry after a few days, but I won't starve or anything." I mentioned to calm him down, though I sincerely hoped he would decide to feed me anyway. I do so enjoy food and hate to go hungry for too long.

"No. No. No. That wouldn't be right. You may be a monster, but I'm not," he said as he untied me and thrust the plate toward me.

I offered him my heartfelt thanks for the food, but the 'monster' part did kind of throw me. We ate in silence for a while before I finally decided to ask.

"Why are you so apprehensive of me?" I threw out there, startling Jacques who took a minute to compile his response.

"Well, you're a monster. How am I supposed to react?" He retorted.

"See? Right there. Why do you call me a monster? Sure, I am not human, but you don't even know me." I immediately pointed out.

That visibly confused Jacques and he went silent for what felt like ages. I was almost ready to give up on a response when he finally spoke again.

"I'm not sure," he started, seemingly as confused as I was by his own actions. "I guess I've always hated the supernatural. Wait no! Not- Not always. My father was really interested in the subject. Now that I think about it, I guess it doesn't make since. My father and I bonded over it. I guess it started around when he died. I was 12. I was there, but I don't remember much of it. My therapist said I repressed those memories, but I say good riddance." He sort of rambled before he stopped himself. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. I don't even tell my family about this. I've gotta go." 

And with that, he ran out of the room, leaving both dishes and my hands untied. I was shocked about the amount of information he gave me. I wasn't really expecting anything, but I guess he's really lonely, and it's easier to talk to me because he doesn't care about my opinion, nor does he expect anything from me. I considered following him up the stairs but decided better of it and just sat there listening to him clunking around assumably getting ready for the day, followed by heavy footsteps rushing out the door and the car starting up.

His sudden departure was fine by me. It gave me time to think of what he had just revealed to me. What exactly was a therapist? I had been around for a long time, but I had never met anyone who mentioned that. Come to think of it, no one had ever talked to me that sincerely or importantly since I left my siblings. We were so close, but I didn't realize until now that I hadn't let anyone get that close to me since then. Had I been holding back because they were a different species than me, or was there something else? Maybe I was afraid of losing anyone again. A human's life is so fragile, they would expire before too long and I would be alone again. 

Suddenly all those years alone didn't seem like a choice to me. It seemed like I was running from something. Running away from my feeling of being abandoned. Of my family choosing a human over me. How could they do that? How could they all leave me alone like this? However, at the same time, I was starting to see what they saw in these humans. They were fantastically complex. There were so many layers to them you could spend a lifetime and not riddle it all out. Furthermore, if they loved a human as much as I loved them, how could they bear to see the human grow old and die? They would be as broken up about it as I was over them and have to live with that for millennia. Did I really want that for them? 

I didn't even know I had all these feelings, but I suppose Jacques brings them out in me as much as I bring them out in him. I had much to think about.


	5. A Budding Friendship

For the second time since meeting this man, I remained wrapped in my feelings for hours until I heard Jacques' car pull back up into the driveway. I hadn't even realized that it had been that long, but I suppose I am not very good at keeping track of time. Even though I have an unlimited amount, life just seems to go by so quickly, although I have been much more aware of it since that first moment when I go caught in his trap. This has certainly been the most eventful period of my life since I was relieved of duty. Isn't that ironic? It hasn't even been days and I have spent most of it in a basement, but so much has happened. I suppose that's what it is like to be human. I always neglected the importance of their existence because their lifespan is so short, but maybe they fill their fleeting time in a way I never dreamed of. 

After he shuffled around the house for a few hours, I once again caught the delectable aroma of his cooking. It must be dinner time. I wondered whether he was going to feed me again after what happened this morning, but that was answered when the door to my room slowly swung open. He looked much less disheveled than he had this morning. He was in almost the same outfit as he had on yesterday, just a different shirt. Maybe those were different pants, but they looked awfully similar to me. Of course, I couldn't judge as I was still wearing the same outfit. No entirely by choice as I wasn't supplied anything to change into, but I could always make new clothes if I so desired. 

He sheepishly shuffled down the stairs and offered me my plate without words. It was obvious that he was embarrassed about his oversharing this morning, so it was left up to me to start a conversation. For his benefit, I made a mental note to steer clear of anything related to this morning and decided to give voice to some of my other questions. 

"Why do you live here?" I asked

"What?" He asked, my question catching him off guard.

"I mean, why do you live in the woods? Especially in a house this empty and lonely? Is it purely for your work, or because of some deep-seated resentment towards other people?" I questioned, half-joking.

"Oh. Well, what do you know of human law?" He responded cryptically.

"Some, but it never really interested me that much. Why?" I supplied.

"It isn't -exactly- legal to be hunting these game, especially at this time of year and without a license. Living out here I have a much smaller chance of running into the police or something, ya know?" He answered. "It does get kind of lonely, but at least my family visits often," he continued.

"Oh. So you're, like, a criminal then?" I asked for clarification.

"NO. Well- huh- I guess I am. I never really thought much about it. Growing up, my father and I spent much of our time hunting. It was all I learned and all I was good at. Of course, he had a license, but I didn't. When I went to apply for one, they said I was ineligible because of my mental history. But it was the only thing I was good at and all I ever wanted to do in life. So I did it behind the law's back. I guess it was also one of the only ways for me to still feel close to my dad. I still plan on going to a trade school later, but I have to save up enough money to avoid debt first. So until then, this is what I do. It's not the best course of action, but everyone's gotta start somewhere," he admitted.

"I understand. Sometimes you do what you have to," I acknowledged.

Something about my response struck a chord in him and his head shot up. He scrutinized my expression for a while before voicing what he was thinking. "Have you ever committed a crime?" he questioned in a rather serious tone.

I wanted to give him the most honest answer possible as he had given me, so I thought about my response for a little while. Eventually I responded, "Well, I am not entirely certain of everything, as I obviously don't know the extent of your human laws, but I do know they are different in many places and situations. I have killed a few people who have attempted to kill me, but those were mostly in Grecian times when they viewed me as a monster. I suppose I didn't have to engage them, but after so long I just got so sick of everyone calling me that. Of course, at the time that wasn't against the law, as they had sought me out for single combat. However, law is different here and now and killing of most kinds is illegal as I understand it, so I don’t know if that counts. Back in the day when the ancients were still around, I dated this one beauty named Cecily, the ancient of the flutterbies. Wait- sorry sometimes I forget people changed the name. Butterflies. She was wonderful. As I understand it, that relationship has been against the laws of multiple different places in multiple different times. We didn't care. We were above silly human rules like that. However, I do not believe I have ever knowingly and purposely broken the law of the place I was." 

"Oh. Wow," he murmured digesting all I had told him. "I have several questions if that is okay."

"Ask away."

"First of all, the Greeks knew about you?"

"Duh," I laughed, "everyone knew about us back then. We only started to slip out of public eye when many of us started dying off. You ever heard of Arachne?"

"I am talking to a Greek myth," Jacques muttered dumbfounded, which only made my mirth grow. "Wait a minute, I thought you said you couldn't die."

"No, I said you couldn't kill me that way. We can die through combat or suicide. We can also give up our immortality willingly. My siblings mainly perished by those last two in hordes."

"Wow, I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thank you," I replied, and I meant it with all my heart.

"Anyway, what the heck do you mean by flutterby and butterfly?!" He asked rather violently.

"You don't know? Well, I suppose it was well before your time. Butterflies used to be called flutterbies, but the English couldn't pronounce it properly, and the name just caught on." 

[Author note: This is not true. The name butterfly came from the Middle and Old English words Buttorfleoge and Boterflye. However, this is a popular myth that I have always loved, so I wanted to incorporate it. If there can be ancient spider people in this reality, then I can have my butterfly myth dang it. Fight me about it.]

"Oh- oh wow. Okay. Just flip my worldview, will you? Give me a warning next time," he retorted sarcastically, which prompted another snort from me. "So what happened to Cecily?" he prodded on a more serious note.

"Way to sober the mood," I joked. "She uh- well, she was captured by humans. She was passed around for centuries and every minute was hell for her. Eventually they allowed her to grant a wish and she returned to me. But she was never the same. It was obvious that those memories scarred her terribly. She couldn't sleep or eat any more. She slowly wasted away, and all I could do was watch. Eventually, she couldn't take it anymore and, with my blessing, ended it. I'll never forget her, but I suppose it was for the best." 

"God, I- I'm sorry. I had no idea. Oh- oh no. Does this? Am I?" He stuttered with growing horror on his face.

"No, no, no. It's okay. I believe you're different. I mean, at first, yeah. I was terrified. But now? Not so much. I guess it's nice to finally have someone to talk to," I reassured him. 

He calmed down, but I could still see the apprehension on his face. "I guess you sort of already answered my question of why no one has heard about you. How many of you were there?" He ventured, more hesitant now.

"We were more numerous than the stars. It was a glorious time. I miss them terribly. I believe I might be the last one left, for I have not caught wind of a single one of my brethren for about a millennium now." I responded wistfully.

We ate the rest of our dinner in relative silence with only a few odd questions here and there, but it was obvious that an unlikely friendship had budded between us. And it was good. What I told him was the truth. I was no longer afraid of what was to come.


	6. The Intrusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, this is where the violence starts. Enjoy!

The next day, when Jacques brought breakfast he stopped at the door and told me to follow him. I was about to question it, but he was already walking away, and I didn't see the point. We ended up in a room on the other side of the basement from the kitchen. He said that he figured if I am to be staying here long term, I might as well be comfortable. It was a simple room with only a bed, a nightstand, and a closet. It didn't even have a window, but I loved that about it. Although I adore extravagant things, I also appreciate the ordinary. Besides, it was the first room I could call my own in a long time. 

From there, he led me to the kitchen, and we had breakfast. He told me I should come in here for meals, and while he was gone I could go anywhere in the house besides upstairs (that's where his room was and he had a thing about privacy) and the keep away from the windows. I could tell he was still ashamed of me and didn't know what to do with this whole mess, but I was definitely willing to follow those rules. After all, they gave me a much lager area to roam than I had in the basement. 

Days passed like this. We would get up and have breakfast together, he would leave for work, I would attempt to entertain myself until he got back, we would have dinner, and then talk until we went to our respective rooms. As an ancient, I required much less sleep than him, but I would stay quiet for his sake. Mostly, I spent my time pondering all the new information he was giving me and what I was finding out about myself.

When we talked, we would exchange stories of what life was like from our different point of views. He would always say that his existence was drab compared to mine, but I found it fascinating. The more I learn about the mortal existence, the more these creatures astound me. Although they are fragile, they are surprisingly resilient both physically and mentally. They take what time they have, and don't expect anything more. They just work with what they have. And boy do they work. Their lives are filled with so much chaos and excitement, yet they still go to the same residence at night and the same occupation in the morning. How does such a regulated existence provide the opportunity for such variation and chance. The unexpected strikes regularly, and people are mean to adjust and keep going. Nothing seems to phase them for too long. It truly is a beautiful life lived. 

There were some subjects that took longer to breach than others. He wasn't willing to hear the details of what I was and where I can from for a rather long while, and I was afraid to ask about what happened to his father until a few days after that. As it turns out, someone murdered the man while Jacques was hiding nearby. Either the killer didn't see him or didn't care, because he left right after the deed was done. His father bled out in his arms and there was nothing he could do about it. I can relate to that helpless feeling. Apparently, the police never did find who did it. It makes me sad that humans can do such things to one another, much less get away with it, but I suppose that is life.

One day, there was a change to routine, for as we feasted on a scrumptious breakfast, there came a pounding on the door. Jacques' whole body tensed, and his eyes grew as wide as saucers. 

"Oh no. I completely forgot. How could I forget? Is it really May 27th already?! They can't know about her," he muttered under his breath, clearly panicked. 

"What is i-" I started to asked, but was interrupted by his hand slamming on my mouth while his other had raised a single finger to his lips.

"C'mon Jack! I know you're in there, because your truck is in the driveway. Let us in already! I have a lot in my arms," yelled a muffled voice from the other side of the doorway. 

Thinking with his nerves he grabbed my arm and race to the basement where he rather unceremoniously shoved me down the stairs. Had I not been so lithe, I most certainly would have busted my face across the steps. I was rather taken aback by this turn of events, but before I could say anything, he commanded, "Stay here and don't come up and don't make a sound. If anyone opens this door, hide," before slamming the door in my face and racing to the front door.

I was surprised, but I was curious most of all. I wanted more than anything to go up there, but I was unable to. He had given me a direct command connected to where I must stay, and I was obligated to follow it, so I settled on closing my eyes and listening. I could hear Jack greeting someone who was chastising him for taking so long to open the door, while relieving whatever she had been carrying onto a counter in the kitchen. There was also the patter of much smaller footsteps accompanied by a much younger voice trying to get Jacques to look at something. So there was a child up there? How sweet. I couldn't really figure out what they were doing there until I remembered Jacques telling me that his family visits sometimes. I wondered who they were to him. 

I didn't have much time to ponder the situation, however, because it quickly changed again. Suddenly, there were three sets of heavy footsteps entering the front door. I originally thought it to be more family members before I heard Jacques shout at them inquiring why they were in his house while the child cried out in fear. The intruders then ordered Jacques to shut up and someone must've been stuck because I heard a thud and then a person fall to the floor. 

It must've been his relative, because Jacques promptly shouted out in anger, before he was silenced again by a far too deep voice. The intruders than ordered Jacques to lead them to his valuables, to which he agreed as long as they left his family alone. 

I was so afraid for him, and I wanted to move so badly; to help; to cry out, even; but I physically couldn't disobey his orders. I was stuck listening to all of this happening, and I couldn't do anything about it. Or that's what I thought. For the next thing I heard was Jacques telling the men he kept a safe in the basement. I was so thrilled that he was leading them to me that I forgot about the rest of his order. As soon as the door started to open, my body flew across the room without my consent and nested itself behind a stack of bags. 

From there, I waited and saw Jacques enter the room with his hands up, followed by three people with guns pointed right at him. I was so angry that anyone would do such a thing, but mostly I was scared for his life. If I could not get him out of the way, the only person I had connected to in a very long time would die in front of me. 

Thankfully, I didn't have to wait long. Jacques shouted "Ari, protect me!", and I burst forth from my hiding place (causing much destruction to the bags. Whoops.) and pushed him out of the line of fire before they could get a shot off. 

From where we were laying on the ground, partially obscured by a shelf, Jacques asked, "Can you stop them and protect my family?" To which I replied, "It would be my pleasure."  


I now had the go-ahead to throw down, and, boy was I ready for a fight. I rose from the ground and picked up a metal rod before walking toward the very confused intruders. They seemed to snap out of it when they saw how close I was getting before they leveled their guns on me. One started to warn me to stay back, but the person in the center had already fired a shot, which I deflected with the pole. 

This surprised them, but the one in the center regained her composure quickly ordered them all to fire at me. This was going to be fun. They rained shot after shot down on me, but I deflected every one, even though my pole began to be dented beyond recognition. It had been a while since I had been in a serious fight, but I had been practicing since the dawn of time. They couldn't lay a finger on me. 

Once they were out of bullets, I charged at the one on the right and sent him flying toward the stairs, where he landed with a satisfying crunch, signifying a broken bone. He was hesitating too much. Easy pickings. He cried out when he landed and started cradling his arm as I turned to the other two. The one who was initially on the left looked like he was ready to poop his pants, but it was obvious that neither of them was going down without a fight. 

I decided to allow them to keep their dignity by not taking them out immediately. They threw blow after blow, clearly well-practiced in some form of martial arts, but I was too fast. I dodged every one, eventually getting on the inside of the leader's guard and knocking her unconscious before catching the last one standing's punch. From that position, I broke his arm and swung him into a shelf where a can of paint hit his head, giving him a beautiful concussion.

If I'm being honest, I could have incapacitated them sooner, but I wanted to show off for Jacques. I wanted to prove myself to him and let him see what I could do for him should be choose to allow me to fulfill his wish. 

Once I confirmed they were all incapacitated I looked over at Jack who was staring at the doorway. I had completely forgotten about his company! I turned abruptly to see a young woman holding her awestruck son in one arm and a phone in the other. She was talking to a 911 operator, but her mind was fully on me.


	7. The Aftermath

The police took ten minutes to show up, but that was okay, because we had a lot of explaining to do. Of course, that in itself wasn't enough time to explain, so basically Jacques mumbled something about me knowing martial arts, so he led them down here so I could deal with them while his sister continued to stare at me like I was the most interesting thing in the world. They took our statements, as well as the intruders, then left us alone. Now we had to face 'Lydia' as I heard her being addressed during our questionings. 

We stood there in a circle for a while (minus Lydia's son who took to occupying himself with a game on the couch when the police started talking to us) until I finally decided to be the one to break the silence.

"I apologize for my boldness, but who are you?" I asked the woman in front of me. "I mean, I now know your name is Lydia, but how are you two related?"

"Of course. Introductions!" she exclaimed rather dramatically. "I am Lydia, Jack's cousin, and this is Keaton, his nephew, who turns seven today," she proclaimed while gesturing at the child on the couch who offered a polite "Hello", but was aware enough to realize he was not needed yet, so he returned to his game. 

"And you must be evidence that my hermit brother finally got a brain and maybe a few guts to match," Lydia continued.

"Come again?" I puzzled.

"You're Jack's girlfriend, right?" She inquired.

Unable to come up with a better explanation on such short notice that would save Jack's face I decided to roll with it. "Yes, I am," I agreed. "Hi, my name is Araina, but you can call me Ari," I introduced myself while extending a hand to shake. 

"Well, I must say. Beautiful, sweet, strong, and can fight? Where on Earth did you find this catch. More importantly, why is she with you?" Lydia teased while shaking my offered hand.

At this point, Jacques was still stammering over himself, so I decided to continue the conversation myself. "Funny story, I actually got caught in one of his traps," I explained.

"No," Lydia breathed, "So you actually are a CATCH?"

"Wow, beauty and humor, what did you leave Jacques to inherit?" I returned just as playfully as she had previously.

"Well, someone had to get the maturity I suppose. Overrated if you ask me." Lydia quipped.

"I like her," I declared to Jacques who was just barely catching up to the present.

"Uh huh," he supplied, which I am fairly certain highlights the extent of brainpower he had left after everything that had changed in the past half hour. Had it really only been that long? I just keep getting proved right about the ever-fluctuating nature of human life.

"On a more serious note, I want to offer you my thanks," Lydia began. "When those people entered after me, I didn't know what to do. I was terrified. Not for myself, but for my little boy. When they got physical with me, it only proved my helplessness in that situation." For the first time I noticed the bruise forming on the bottom right side of her jaw. It must've been her who hit the floor earlier.

"You'd have to be a mother to know the gratitude I feel towards you. You not only saved me and my son, but you made the world feel a little safer to him after this. You showed him that good beats evil. That, my dear, is priceless," Lydia finished on the verge of tears.

"I've always believed that if you have the ability to help in a situation you should do so. I only acted on that belief today. Should your son take any lesson from today, I would be honored to be his educator," I returned.

Lydia stayed there in the moment for a few seconds longer before wiping the forming tears away and turning to her brother. "She really is something," she whispered before clearing her throat and challenging him. "When were you going to tell us that you were bringing a plus one today?"

This snapped Jacques completely out of his dumbfounded state, "I'm sorry, what?" he yelped.

"Wait a minute," Lydia sassed, "You weren't thinking about leaving her here were you?"

"No- I mean I- Well you see- It's not like-" he stammered.

"That's what I thought," she bellowed at him before turning to me. "For his birthday today, we're going to the amusement park. Wanna come?"

"Oh, absolutely. I love parks!" I affirmed.

"Great! Then it's settled. To the mom wagon!" She boomed before ushering Keaton and me to her Jeep with a very disgruntled Jacques trailing behind.

To say I had a blast would be a drastic understatement. It was perhaps the best day of my life short of meeting Cecily. We rode rides and played games and genuinely enjoyed life together, and it felt like I had a family again. Jacques was awkward at first, but I eventually convinced him to loosen up. He caught on after a while, and it was nice to see him genuinely smiling so openly. He sure loved his walls, but just for a moment I got to see him with his guard down. I must say, it was an exquisite thing to witness. It gave me hope that he might eventually stop worrying about everything and enjoy life as it comes to him. 

At the same time, I was finally realizing what I was missing. I spent all that time running from the loss of my last family, and I never even noticed that there could be another one out there. My siblings weren't selfish when they left to be with the humans. They just saw what I hadn't yet. They realized that our family was slowly falling apart and opted to be a part of a different one. Different, but just as good. Man, if I had only realized it sooner. I wasted so much time. Then again, if I hadn't stuck around for this long, I wouldn't have met these three. That in itself made it all worth it. I'd worry about what'll happen when Jacques makes his wish later. For now, I was taking part in the best party of the millennium. And it was in honor of a very special boy named Keaton who had a world of opportunities awaiting him.

When we got back from the amusement park, we sat down to watch Keaton open his presents. He was really enjoying himself, and I felt like I needed to contribute too, so I told him to close his eyes and hold out his hands. When he complied, I placed a bracelet with a Dara Knot in his outstretched hands. The added weight signaled him to open his eyes, and when he did, they were filled with wonder. 

"What is that?" Lydia queried while also studying the bracelet.

"That is a Dara Knot, the Celtic symbol for strength, made out of silk. I weaved it together myself during a trying period in my life, and it helped me get through it. Hopefully, it will grant you the same fortune," I explained.

The little boy leaped into my arms and hugged me tighter than anyone ever had before, making me realize just how starved for physical attention I was. I held him to me until he was ready to let go, but even then, it was not enough. I needed a whole lifetime with this family. They filled what was broken inside of me, and I realized that I would never be able to let that go. How silly of me to become so attached after just one day, but fickle are emotions and foolish are those who try to ignore or challenge them. When I let go of him, it was only physically. The rest of me would never let go again.

"Thank you, Auntie Ari. It's really cool," he said, looking at me as he slipped it on. 

"You're welcome," I returned, ignoring the 'Auntie' part. Kids, huh?

Then we ate some chocolate cake while Lydia regaled us with tales of her exploits, Keaton interjecting details here and there. She was very dramatic, but in a fun way. I could see her being an entertainer easily, but I found out she was an accountant. She was truly a multi-talented enigma as well as a joy to be around.

When it started to near 8 PM, Lydia announced that she needed to get Keaton home, which was probably a good call as he was nodding off into his third helping of cake. She gathered her stuff and said her goodbyes with a threat to Jacques to "start calling her more often, or else." 

As they were pulling out of the driveway, I turned to my fake boyfriend and remarked, "That's a beautiful family, you have there, Jacques." 

He smiled to himself then turned towards me. "Call me Jack," he decided before turning and going to his room. 

Isn’t it crazy how three words can mean the world to you? I didn't walk. I floated back to my room and had the best sleep I had had in a long time.


	8. The Wish

Days turned into weeks turned into months as we lived together, content for a change. It didn't take long for me to consider him my brother, and I hope he feels the same about me. Whenever we meet up with his sister it is weird, because we have to pretend to be a couple, but everything works out in the long run. A week after the intruder incident, he even started bringing me with him to work every day. He quickly realized that my special skills make the job go by much quicker, so we had a lot of extra time to kill. He taught me about the normal frivolities humans took up to pass the time like Netflix and family game nights, and I got to show him some of what I like to do by taking him to a rave and a bonfire. He certainly liked one of those more than the other.

Unfortunately, as time wore on so did the doubts in Jack's mind. He knew that I couldn't leave if I wanted to, and that set heavy on him. I didn't really know how I felt about the situation. It was weird knowing that I was someone's property and that I couldn't make decisions for myself, but I also wasn't exactly discontented with where I was. Being the hard-headed people that we are, we let those doubts and uncertainties fester in the back of our minds until one of us couldn't take it anymore.

We had just finished a puzzle together and were sitting by the heater with hot cocoas when Jack's jovial mood suddenly turned sober. He sighed and put down his mug as he turned himself slightly away from me. 

"Do you ever miss it?" he asked rather unexpectedly.

"What?" I inquired.

"Running around. Going wherever the wind takes you. Just being free," he mused. I wasn't sure I liked the way he had said the word 'free', but I decided to just go with it.

"I'm not sure. I know that I loved being there and doing those things, but it's weird. Ever since you captured me that day I can't break the feeling that I need to be here. I'm not sure whether that tether is our friendship, or the ancient magic. So, I really don't know how I feel." I replied.

He went silent again for a while, but not in the same way as before. There was something different about him, but I couldn't figure out what. "I'm sorry," he apologized at length.

"For what?" I requested, genuinely concerned.

"For everything. For leading you on this long, because I'm lonely and terrified that you will leave as soon as you get the chance. For the way I acted when I first found you. For capturing you in the first place, putting you in this mess. For taking away your freedom. I know you. You are wild and a free spirit, and I have been keeping you here against your will for months now. I should've said something sooner. I should have given you the choice, but I'm stupid and stubborn like that, but I can't spend another minute with you until I know that you want to be here too. So, how do I do this?" Jack babbled.

"Jack-" I started.

"No. I have been putting this off for far too long and if you try talking me down now, I might never get the courage to do this again. So how do I set you free?" Jack interjected.

"…Well, you have to ask me to help you fulfill your heart's desire, whatever that may be," I supplied hesitantly. 

For a moment Jack sat back and thought about it. Then growing understanding and recognition spread across his face. "Oh," he exhaled as he reached his conclusion.

"What is it?" I solicited, genuinely curious as to what his desire could possibly be.

"Well-" he started, but stopped himself, allowing him to think over how to phrase it before he said it out loud. "You know how my dad is the most important person to have ever been in my life?" 

"Yeah?" I prompted.

"He was the closest anyone ever got to me, so when he died it was … horrible. After a while I started pushing everyone away, because I was afraid to hurt like that again. Better to not let them get too close than to have to feel like that again. I promised myself that I would protect my heart and stay strong for my father. I would prove to him that I am the man he always wanted me to be. I guess I never really moved on from that. But maybe you could help me do that. If you could help me find his killer, and give me some closure on his death, then perhaps I can finally start healing from an event that happened a decade ago." He explained. "Do you think you could do that for me?"

A grin split my face at that request. "Your wish is my command, my lord," I trilled, getting up and making exaggerated bowing motions toward him while he laughed. 

"I think you're spending too much time with Lydia," Jack snickered.

"You might have a point there," I concurred.

"And, hey, just do you know," Jack started, catching my eyes with his, "you will always have a place here if you want it."

"Thank you," I replied, grateful. 

And so began the second stage of my 'captivity': the granting of the wish. In old times I could have just consulted a fate or a mystic to find the identity of this man, but that era had long since passed, so I had to do things the hard way. 

"What do you remember about the night he was killed?" I questioned him, hoping to find a starting point. 

"Not much," he snorted mirthlessly, "Both the police and my counselor know more than I do about what I saw. I told them all initially what had happened that night, but soon I started suppressing the memory. I think it was too painful to remember. There was something about it in particular that upset me, but I- I can't remember what it is," he struggled.

"It's okay, I can just go to your local police department and look up records," I reassured him.

Suddenly, Jack's face was blanketed in remembrance. "Or maybe you don't have to," he uttered before heading towards the stairs. I was prepared to wait at the bottom for him to return, but he waved his hand in a motion that meant 'follow me'. Wow. In one day, I was not only going to be released from slavery, but I would get to see Jack Young's room? I could barely contain myself.

When we reached the top, I wanted to stop and take it all in, but Jack grabbed me by the wrist and led me to a door at the back of the room. We were already leaving his room. What a disappointment. The smaller room appeared to be a form of attic. More like, it seemed as though his bedroom had one been part of the attic, but someone had re-purposed it into what it was today. Still holding my wrist, he dragged me halfway through the maze of dusty boxes until we reached one that looked suspiciously like an evidence box.

"Uh, what's that?" I asked, pointing at the box we had stopped in front of. 

"A copy of everything the police have on the case," he stated matter-of-factly, opening the lid to reveal classified folders.

"Alright, how do you have it?" I questioned. As far as I knew regular citizens were not granted access to police documents. 

"Well, a while back I paid my cousin Enrique to make copies of all the files on the case, so I could do what the police were too dumb or lazy to. Shortly after that, my mental condition worsened drastically, so I had to put my project aside to straighten that out. I had completely forgotten it was here until now!" 

"Oh. Okay." I accepted, completely unfazed by yet another omission of guilt. I mean, I suppose I am a criminal now too after helping Jack 'work' every day.

We grabbed the box and started heading back downstairs to the table. I tried to linger in his room just a little bit longer so I could really soak it in, but once again Jack predicted what I was going to do and forced me out. Once we made it to the table, we got everything out and prepared to settle in for some monotonous detective work. Little did we know, what we were in for was anything but.


	9. A Shocking Discovery

At the very top of the box was the incident report detailing what happened. I was settled in for the long haul, and had my brain going in full gear. I was just drinking in the description of the man as detailed only a few lines down, when I noticed a disturbance across the table from me. I looked up to a rather unusual sight. There Jack sat starting unblinkingly at nothing in the direction of the paper that was gripped in his hand so violently I was unsure if anything would still be legible should he have attempted to refocus his eyes. Somehow his brown complexion had turned into a pale white in the few minutes I had been reading the incidence report. Truth be told, it scared me. 

"Jack?" I asked, tentatively while slowly putting down the paper in my hand. When his countenance remained unchanged, I called out to him again with a little more volume, but again no response. This was about the time I started inching toward him, with a caution I had only previously used with wild animals. When I got to him, the arm holding onto the paper extended toward me, but nothing else on his body moved, as though some unseen force had pulled his arm away from his body, and the rest of him hadn't the mind to notice.

By now I was terrified of what might be on the paper, but I also had to know. Bracing myself, I read the title. It was the witness statement. It was HIS witness statement from that night. I knew that he repressed those memories, but I had never stopped to consider what he could've seen that would make him do such a thing. So, I read it. Somehow, that small, largely overlooked document had not only the answers to the whole case, but answers to questions that I had pushed off for so long.

[Author note: I considered ending the chapter here, and waiting to write the next one so I could mess with my sister, but it was way too small. So I opted for that little space fake-out instead. LOVE YOU SISSY!]

He did see the killer that night, in exquisite detail. Down to the last feather. Yeah, that's right. Feather. For the one who killed Jack's father was not a man at all. It was something else entirely. I had to know for sure, so I tore through the evidence box until I found a drawing of the killer. It was crude and obviously done by a 12-year-old, but there was no mistaking it. There, staring back at me in colored pencil was none other than Falcor, the bird ancient, in all his glory. 

The police called it the hallucinations of a scared little boy who wanted to make sense of what he saw and had disregarded it to follow other clues, but I knew better. Suddenly all the pieces of the puzzle that we had been putting together since the day we met finally started falling into place. 

This explained so much. He was initially hostile toward me because his subconscious remembered what had happened the last time he had seen one of my kind, even though he didn't remember it yet. The circumstances surrounding his father's death bothered him so much, not only because no one believed what he saw, but also because his father's life was ended by the same type of entity that his father had taught him to respect. His father had harbored such a deep love for the supernatural, only to be mercilessly slaughtered by one in the end. Such a cruel fate would cause anyone to turn their back on the truth.

This was why Jack relapsed the last time he went through the box. Reading that report must've made it all come racing back. He had to experience it all over, as if for the first time. That would explain his current state as well. I had so many emotions and questions about this bubbling up inside me, but I knew we couldn't both break down at the same time. I had to prioritize calming Jack down and getting him to a bed to rest. Then I could fall apart while he slept. Maybe it wasn't the healthiest plan, but it was all I could do at the moment.

I set everything back in the box carefully, planning on going through it more extensively later, and turned to where Jack sat in the exact same position he had been in since I first noticed something was wrong. I walked over to his chair and leaned over, so my face was directly in front of his. 

Cradling his face in my hands, I tilted his face up until his eyes met mine and whispered "Hey" softly to get his attention. When the clouds started clearing from his eyes, I was sure I had his attention, so I continued. 

"Hey. I know this isn't what you expected or wanted, but don't worry. We'll figure this out together just like we promised, okay? I know it may seem like everything's changed, but it hasn't. This has always been the reality; we were just unaware of it. Now that we are, we can fix this, okay? But not right away. You need to lie down. Just stay with me, okay? There's a couch right over there. I'll get you to it, and you can sleep off the shock. We'll talk tomorrow, alright? Nod if you understand," I soothed in my most calm, yet assertive tone.

As soon as I felt his head move in a nearly imperceptible nod, I picked him up and carried him to the couch, where I laid him down and covered him with the blanket on the back of it. 

"Try and get some rest, okay?" I commanded, but he was already nodding off from the stress of the day. I wanted to as well, but I knew I couldn't with everything that was going through my head. I picked up the box of evidence as quietly as I could so as not to disturb him and carried it to my room. I knew in my heart that this was going to be a long night.


	10. A Long Night and A Jarring Morning

Only when I was safely tucked away in my room did I allow myself to get lost in the implications of this revelation. Sure, this was a big deal for Jack, but it meant a lot to me too. I wasn't alone. For the first time in centuries, I had confirmation that there was another ancient still out there. And he was…killing? In cold blood? That couldn't be. I mean, sure, Falcor always had a temper, especially if you messed with what was his. I could easily recall multiple instances of him lashing out on us for seemingly trivial things. But to do something like this? I couldn't even imagine it. As harsh as he could be to the other ancients, he had always loved people. Even when one would challenge him or his honor, he never fought them. Falcor thought they were cute but fragile creatures and never so much as shouted when he knew a human was around. There had to be more to the story. 

I overturned the box onto my bed and started digging through it. The answers I was looking for had to be in there somewhere. I skimmed through page after page, carelessly discarding the ones I didn't need onto the floor until I found what I was looking for. His symbol. When an ancient takes a life, they leave their symbol on the body of the victim. And there his was, carved into Jack's father. This was originally done so we could keep each other in check and avoid another near extinction. I suppose he wanted to stick to the tradition. Or maybe this was a cry for help. Could he be trying to find us? Did he do this in hopes one of us would find him? Did he miss his siblings so badly that he would recklessly upend these lives for just a chance of seeing us again? 

No. Not like this. The way he did it was too specific. He could've just walked up to any random person on the street and snapped their neck for the same effect. Furthermore, why such an unknown subject? Should he have done this to an important figure, even I would've heard about it, lackadaisical as I am about current news. No, this was done out of malice. He had carefully chosen his target, then stalked him to his home where he waited for nightfall. Then he broke in at the precise moment he thought the man would be alone and went straight for his position. Even the fact that he had chosen to stab him to death was a sign that this was for revenge. 

But why? Jack's father was unknown, small-town man. How could he have possibly crossed Falcor? None of this made any sense, but I was going to figure it out. I just needed to find him. Now that I knew it was him rather than a man, the police's data would be next-to worthless. They had no idea of his abilities. Luckily, I did. In fact, I used to know everything about him, given as we lived in such close quarters. He always looked down on me. He even trained his subjects to eat mine, but at the end of the day, there was always a camaraderie between us that only another sibling knows. I may be the only one left who could track him down. 

Or maybe not. Falcor never took on a human form. He never saw a reason to hide or blend in, no matter how many times I tried to show him what he was missing. If HE had been living out in the human world for all this time under my radar, then so could others. What if there was a whole bunch of us left? I had been living with the weight of being the last one for nothing. What if they were all different than I remember? Obviously Falcor had become a completely different entity. What of them? What is they were killing mercilessly as well? Had my brothers and sisters not disappeared like I thought, instead morphing into this remorseless gang that slays without thought? Should they ask we to join them, would I have the strength to turn them down and risk losing my family all over again?

No. There's no point in agonizing over what might be. I'll see what exactly is going on as soon as I track Falcor down. I wanted to get started right away, but I knew I wouldn't be able to think straight with the frenzy I had worked myself into. Furthermore, I needed to be put together and there for Jack when he woke up. Exhausted, I brushed the rest of the papers from the box onto the floor and laid down to get the rest I needed to face tomorrow. 

The next morning when I woke, Jack was already up and making coffee. He seemed to have recovered from his initial shock, opting instead for an emotionless state. The moment I looked into his eyes and saw the cold determination in them, I knew I wouldn't get him back until he saw Falcor himself. He was absolutely single-minded in his pursuit of justice. It startled me at the same time it concerned me. He was aware that he wouldn't be able to get human justice handed down by the court system, right? Nor would he be able to slay him in vengeance for his father. What was he planning? I wanted to ask him, but I could feel a tension in the air that dissuaded me from doing so.

We sat down and had breakfast in relative silence until he decided to ask what I knew. I had never been one to hide anything, so I told him all that I knew about Falcor and how I was certain it was him. He asked questions here and there, but only for clarification purposes. He wasn't interested in much else. I suppose I wasn't either. I guess we both needed answers, but I still hated seeing him like this again. We had worked so hard to get him to lower his walls, and now they were back up overnight. It felt like all that time had been wasted. Why even bother if months of work can be dashed in only one night?

Half of me wished we had never opened that damn box. We could've gone about our lives blissfully unaware of what transpired. The other, smarter half recognized the necessity of this. Should we have left it be, both of us would carry the weight of unresolved questions with us the rest of our existences. I just hoped that both of us would be able to move on after this. A darker part of me wondered if we would both make it through this. I knew how powerful the ancients were, and if they were killing humans now, I had no way to guarantee Jack's safety. I knew he needed closure just as much as I did, but I also knew that when we found Falcor there was no way I was bringing him with me.


	11. The Botched Escape

We spent the next few days tracking down the place Falcor went that night, in hopes that I would be able to track him from there. I was an exceptional tracker, but I was uncertain of his ability to cover his tracks now. Unfortunately, it was our only hope. If I couldn't pick up a trail, he would be lost to the wind. For now, we were doing the easy part. Between Jack's knowledge of the surrounding terrain, and my knowledge of Falcor, it didn't take long to figure out exactly where he would have gone to recuperate after that night. 

When we did pinpoint his location, it was rather bittersweet. I was thrilled to have found him, but I knew that this is where I had to leave Jack behind. He would feel so betrayed that he might never look at me the same way again. Nevertheless, I would rather him alive and hating me than dead because of me. We quickly packed the necessities resolving to leave in the morning and retired to our separate rooms. I needed to be gone before Jack woke up, but since I slept less than him anyways, I knew I could get the necessary rest in and still escape without him realizing. 

It was a whole different story when I attempted to leave, though. I was fully prepared and attempting to sneak out the front door when I found I couldn't turn the knob. I don't mean the knob was stuck; I mean I physically couldn't make my hand twist it in either direction. Puzzled, I removed my hand and tried again with the left one. Same result. Getting increasingly frustrated, I grabbed the knob with both hands and tried to twist it with all my might, throwing my body back and forth until I managed to unbalance myself and landed rather loudly and ungracefully on the floor, the knob mockingly in the same place as it had at the beginning of this ordeal.

I glowered at it, pouting like a child, when I heard movement upstairs. Great. The commotion had woken Jack up. I had no sooner made that connection when he came flying down the stairs with a shotgun pointed in the direction of the door and, by extension, my dumb self still sitting on the floor, highlighting the actual source of the bang. Jack looked perplexed until he realized what was going on.

"Were you trying to leave without me?" He demanded, sounding rather hurt.

I wasn't expecting to be caught, so I hadn't prepared what I was going to say to him yet. Therefore, my response came out lamely as a half-whispered, "I didn't want you to get hurt."

"I can't believe you would-wait" He began, then caught himself, "why are you on the floor?" He asked instead.

"Well, I was trying to leave," I started, standing up and dusting myself off, "but there is something wrong with this dumb door," I finished, kicking the door in irritation. 

"Wrong with the door?" Jack echoed perplexed.

"Yeah, see?" I affirmed, reaching toward the offending knob to demonstrate. I wrapped my fingers around the troublesome metal and tried to turn it with all my might, but it wouldn't budge.

Jack paused for a moment, then pointed out, "You do realize that you need to turn it for the door to open right?" 

I glared at him. "Yes. I'm pretty sure I am aware of how doors are supposed to work. The problem is that this door doesn't," I ground through gritted teeth.

Jack looked like he was about to say something else that was probably just as condescending but opted not to. Instead, he finished descending the stairs and walked over to where I was standing. "May I try?" he ventured, gesturing at my hand still planted firmly on the handle.

"Knock yourself out," I intoned, releasing it and taking a few steps back, where I crossed my arms and waited for Jack to work his door magic. To my surprise, he twisted the knob and opened the door with the ease cultivated over a lifetime of entering and exiting buildings as one does. To be honest, if you had told me that I would be flabbergasted over someone opening a door, I would have told you that you were off your rocker. Yet, here we were, and I could not for the life of me figure out how he did that.

"How-" I uttered, walking towards the door, only to be met with by an invisible wall when I attempted to cross the threshold.

"Okay, what is going on?" I demanded, fully upset at this point.

Jack looked between me and the door a few times, going so far as to take a few experimental steps in and out of the house before starting and turning to me with understanding dawning across his face. I waited for his explanation, but all I got from him was a simple "oh." That's when I really lost my temper.

"Jacques Normand Forbes, you tell me what's going on, or I'm getting my staff!" I threatened, though we both knew it was empty.

"You haven't fulfilled my wish yet. I guess you're still my property. You can't leave without my permission," he explained, looking more sheepish than I had ever seen him.

All the anger drained out of my body, leaving me cold. I responded with a matching "oh", but my brain said so much more. I supposed I hadn't given much thought to that part of our relationship practically since that first night. This was a sudden reminder of my newfound lack of freedom, and I didn’t like the feeling that accompanied it one bit.

I could tell Jack was still a little upset that I had tried to leave without him, but that had been diluted with this change of events as well. "Hey," he ventured, "It's alright. Why don't we grab our things and head out, like we had planned to? I get that you want to protect me from this guy, but I think if he wanted me dead, he would've killed me that night. You said he is half bird, right? With that eyesight, there's no way he missed me, even in my hiding spot. I'll be fine. You'll make sure I'm fine. I trust you. And after that, you won't have to worry about this anymore. You'll be free again, and never have to ask to come and go as you please. Sound good?" He ventured.

"Yeah. Okay." I agreed, but I was utterly humbled. Even if I wanted to disagree, I knew I couldn't. That was the kind of understanding that really kills your spirit if you let it. I would reign it in later, but I was going to let myself be conquered by it for now. 

With that, Jack went upstairs to get dressed while I picked up our supplies and loaded them in the truck. Then I started making a quick breakfast while he phoned his sister to let them know that we would be out of town for a few days on an emergency call. Nothing bad was happening, but our friends needed us to come right away. As soon as she was reassured, we grabbed our food and hit the road, determined to get this over with as soon as possible.


	12. Shady Tweetment

It was only a few hours' drive, but it felt like days. The silence stretching between us was longer than the road in front of us. Neither of us knew what to say after what happened that morning, so we just didn't try. Still, that doesn't mean that we didn't want to talk. We had so much to say to each other, especially since this could be our last chance to spend time together, but we just couldn't. I was usually the one who started conversations when it got like this, and I frankly was not in the mood or headspace to be the initiator. Jack wouldn't even know where to start. So there we sat, torturing ourselves on a journey to find the answers we had both been looking for and dreading in equal measure.

As we approached our destination, the mood only got worse. We were both anxious, but we didn't know how to reach out to each other, so even though we were together physically, in reality we were alone. 

When we were only a few miles away, Jack had had enough and rather violently pulled the car to the side of the road. He sat there only a few more minutes gathering himself when he whirled to face me, eager to speak his mind lest he lose his nerve. 

"Look. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I'm sorry. For everything. You shouldn't even be in this situation right now, but here we are. There is nothing either of us could do about it now if we wanted to. I get it, but I'm terrified right now, and you're the one who usually pulls us together and you're not, and I get why you're not, but I care about you so much and I guess- I guess what I'm trying to say is that I can't stand you being mad at me," he rambled, finally letting out his insecurities.

"Oh. Jack, no. It's not- I'm not-" I took a breath to allow myself to order my sentence in my brain first. "I'm not mad at you. I guess the reality of my- situation- rattled me, and I reacted badly. I'm sorry. I care for you too. Can we just pretend it didn't happen?" I ventured hopefully.

All the tension on Jack's shoulders seemed to fall right off as he breathed a sigh of relief and turned forward uttering a single, "absolutely" before pulling the truck back onto the road. Before either of us were really ready, we arrived at the bottom of the closest mountain range. Falcor always did have a flair for the dramatics. He relished in tall monuments that scraped the sky, while still choosing to sleep in an underground chamber below them. That is why we chose this place. These mountains fulfilled all the requirements, as they were not only tall, but had a large network of caves underneath them. 

We would have to climb on foot from here. Finding the right cave in this mountain seemed daunting, but with the newly lightened friendship between us, we were okay with it. We thought it was going to take forever, but that did not turn out to be the case. After only a short while of climbing, we cleared a ridge and took in a very unexpected sight. 

There were birds. Hundreds, maybe thousands of them. Of all different species. And they were all staring at us, as if awaiting our arrival. It was kind of spooky. Especially when you consider what it meant. Not only had Falcor indeed been here as we had suspected, it meant he was still here. And that he knew we were coming. Had he been spying on us? If so, who had he been spying on, Jack or me?

We didn't have much time to ponder these questions, as the flock of birds suddenly rose as one and barreled towards us, effectively pushing us into a hole in the cliff's face. A very rocky, downward sloping hole. Ow. Just because it couldn't kill me didn't mean it didn't hurt. Wait. IT COULD KILL JACK, THOUGH.

I frantically looked around until I spotted him sitting up a few feet away. He was cut up from the rocks and rubbing his head, signifying that he had bumped it somewhere along the way, but he looked okay. That was a relief. These mortals are so strange. A fall like that could either kill you or leave you practically unscathed. It all depended on luck and how you happened to land. I was glad to see that luck was with us on this day. 

We got up and brushed small rocks off before we looked around at where we had landed. We seemed to be at the entrance of a rather large cave. Since there was only one opening, into the large spooky hole we went. 

The tunnel opened up quite a bit into a hallway of sorts, complete with torches lighting the walkway. How considerate of him. He, himself, would never need a torch to see in the dark, and he knew I wouldn't either, which means he specifically went out of his way to make sure Jack could see what was happening. I was getting a bad feeling about this, but we couldn't turn away when we were so close. I mean, we actually couldn't. Those birds would probably peck out our eyes if we popped out of the hole we entered through. So we pressed on until we saw the opening to an extraordinarily lit room. 

Well if that doesn't scream Falcor, I don't know what does. Geez. He could've just come to the house and saved us the trip, but no. He has to make everything theatrical. Even breakfast has to be a production for this guy. Oh well. 'Here we go,' I thought as we crossed the threshold into the abode of the bird ancient.


	13. Not as it Seems

The room we entered was unexpected by cave standards, but exactly what I anticipated from the moment I realized Falcor was behind this. Somehow, he made the cavern look like an actual room, albeit a large one. There was gold plaiting on everything that wasn't stained white. As far as furnishings go, there was plenty in the way of lavish and plushy seating near the entrance, as well as a curtained off area in the back, the middle was cleared out. It was as if he was expecting something to go down that might put furnishings in harms way, so he moved them. 

To be honest, it was stunning, especially after having lived in a small house in the woods for so long. Jack was absolutely awestricken, but it reminded me of old times, of brotherhood and laughter. It felt like home. Oh, how I missed them all. I couldn't wait to see him again. I almost forgot why we were here in the ecstasy of nostalgia. 

Everything came rushing back as Falcor emerged from behind the curtain. This wasn't the sweet yet hotheaded man I called my brother. This was something entirely different. I could tell it used to be him, but it was twisted and warped almost beyond recognition. He was a shell of who he used to be. His hair was spiked straight back, underneath which you could clearly see the bags under his eyes- excuse me, eye- that evidenced an inability to sleep anymore. He was robed in tattered black clothes underneath which you could see his almost skeleton-like form that could only be caused by centuries of mistreatment. What was visible of his skin was covered in scars. 

He smiled, but it contained no mirth, neither did his eyes. They were like black holes, swallowing up all the joy in the world, as though they could ever be filled again. There was something truly deranged about the figure that stood before me, and all the explanation as to why was written all over his body. Even worse, he was molting. I didn't even know that was possible. I didn't know how to react. I expected him to be different, but I never expected this. It hurt so badly to see him like this. There was a pain spreading in my gut that, though it had only just started, had already become unbearable. 

"So, you finally came?" Falcor asked as if he didn't already know the answer, "I'm sorry I don't have anything prepared for you, but I haven't eaten human food in some time. I could get one of my brethren to pick up a mouse or two if you'd like?" he suggested, knowing that we wouldn't. 

He had a lighthearted air as he spoke, betrayed by the tension across his whole body. I struggled to find words, but there was nothing to say. How could he have fallen into such a state of disarray? Even as I thought that, I knew the answer. I just couldn't admit it to myself. All of my ideations shattered in an instant, as I realized we would not be leaving without a fight. This reality that I found myself in was akin to my worst nightmares, as that froze me to the spot.

Jack was going through his own shock as well. He was a little taken aback seeing that man who had killed his father, but I could tell he was mostly disturbed by his true form. Falcor had never taken a human form for as long as I had known him. He always said that everyone should just be who they are and that hiding was for cowards. Therefore, Jack was getting a full view of an ancient's power for the first time since he got me out of the trap in the woods. 

This alone was minimal enough for him to shake off, but my reaction wasn't. I was trembling like a leaf in the wind and I'm pretty sure I was crying. This was the first time he had seen me cry. He could tell I was coming apart at the seams, and he had no idea why. He had never seen my brother before, so he had nothing to base his appearance off of like I did. Seeing me in that state was enough to jar him out of whatever revere he was stuck in.

"Why did you kill my father?" he demanded, getting right to the point.

Abruptly, Falcor's fake pleasant countenance dropped to reveal a sneer filled with such unbridled hatred I almost had to look away. "You should be asking what your father did to me," he growled in response.

"What are you talking about?" Jack returned, clearly baffled by this response.

"So, he never told you, did he? Never wanted to reveal to his son what a disgusting being he is, no doubt," Falcor spat.

"My father was a wonderful man!" Jack shouted, grabbing his shotgun from his back.

"Really?" Falcor raged, "Could a wonderful man do this?" Falcor barked, raising his shirt to display the myriad of scars crisscrossing his stomach.

Jack's anger drained from him as disbelief started to set in. "My father didn't do that," he denied, though he sounded a little uncertain now.

"Well, you're half right," Falcor admitted. "He isn't responsible for all of it. Oh, would you like to hear the tale? The tale of an innocent man and a butcher, as you always saw it, but in this one the roles are reversed. Please, grab a seat, and I shall enlighten you on the subject," he announced, back in his dramatic persona as quickly as he had dropped it. 

Neither of us moved, but he began anyway, eager to share his story to willing ears, as well as to prove his relative innocence in the case we came to accuse him of.

"It was centuries ago," he began with gusto. "Araina had just left home and everything seemed so dull. I honestly didn't know how to handle myself. I had spent my entire existence in close quarters with her, only for her to flit off who knows where. After a decade or so, I grew tired of it and departed myself, hoping to bring her back."

"I had tracked her across the continents when I found myself in the Americas. It wasn't a place of note in my opinion, but Araina sure was enamored by the native people there. I had come to a nice cave to rest in before I continued my search. And that's the moment my freedom ended, for as I slept a group of men decided to capture me. And you know what happens when man captures you," he announced, pointing at me. "Your life is subject to their will."

"They believed me a demon. They kept me locked up for I don't even know how long, rotting, passing me down from father to son as a birthright. 'You must have the strength to resist the demon,'" he mimicked darkly, "'for he will try everything to earn his freedom. Then he will kill you all.' I tried my best to show them that was not the case, but they wouldn't hear of it." 

"Eventually, the Europeans came over and started forcing them off their lands. I hoped that they would be my liberation, but I was sorely mistaken. When the Europeans heard of me, they took me as a prize before slaughtering the tribe that had held me for so long. And as the saying goes, it was better the evil I knew. You see, these Europeans didn't take me to keep me from creating chaos as the tribal men had. No, no, no. They had other plans."

"These men were interested in money. They sold me to the highest bidder, who just so happened to be in the scientific community," he announced, throwing his hands in the air as if he was simply participating in a surprise party. "Hang on to your seats, folks. This is where it gets interesting."

"These people were more monstrous than I had ever been," he proclaimed, on the verge of tears, yet giggling like a madman. "They performed experiment after experiment on me, not caring how much I screamed. And I couldn't fight back. I was at the mercy of these men and then their brightest pupils in a never-ending line across the ages."

"Of course, this was all done under the radar," he clarified. "They had to keep it a secret from anyone who had those pesky morals who would've put a stop to these experiments. This unending cycle of torment continued until about a decade ago. You see, my newest owner, Ferdinand, had a problem that only I could solve. He came to me one night and said, 'My son, Jack, is sick. It is an illness the doctors don't recognize and don't know how to cure. If you can heal him, I will set you free.'"


	14. The Other Side of the Story

At this revelation, Jack gasped and dropped his gun. He shook his head in denial, and started to whisper a defense for his father, but Falcor continued before he could interject, fueled by the effect his story had on us.

"Obviously I agreed. It was the deal of the century! He brought me to his house where his 12-year-old boy was resting and gave me the run down of his condition. It was even easier than I thought. The boy was afflicted with a rather ancient disease that the doctors would have had no possible way of knowing about, but I did. It was ironic, really," he reminisced. "The only way for the boy to have come down with the sickness is by exposure to an ancient one. His father had brought the disease home with him!" He laughed in apparent glee.

"I healed him in no time and took my leave. That night, I visited the home of every person still alive who had a part in my torment and cut them down where they stood, along with any pesky family members that decided to get in my way. They wanted a monster, so I gave them one. I left Ferdinand for last. I wanted him to see the consequences of his actions, so I waited until the news of the slaughter had reached his ears. It was only a few days, but it felt like an eternity, restless as I was. The very night he heard of what happened I snuck into his house and killed him right in front of the boy I had saved. There was no reason for him to meet the same fate, so I left."

"From there I gathered my subjects once again to locate my long-lost brethren, and what do I find but all of them long dead except for one," he bit, holding up a single finger and then pointing it at me. "Little Miss Araina. The one I had left in search of in the first place, one of the first to leave in the great upheaval of that century. The one who abandoned everyone who loved her voluntarily, because all she loves is herself, inspiring others after her to do the same. The one who would abandon the sibling closest to them to a fate worse than death so she could rush off and enjoy the world, because she loves EVERYTHING on this DISGUSTING PLANET more than she loves her family," he ranted, his voice rising in intensity with every word. 

"Araina, the one who caused the eradication of our race and even now shuns her heritage by pretending to be something she values above her own kind, a filthy human," he finished, forcing out those last two words as if they were bile.

These accusations were enough to snap me out of my stupor. "You really blame me for the extinction of our kind? I left BECAUSE it happened, it didn't happen because of me. I left because I love family more than all the frivolities of life. My family was dying around me. You may not have noticed because you were always too wrapped up in your own little world, but our siblings were leaving us one by one. Then a great many started searching for the love they had heard so much about and I couldn't stay. I knew where this was heading, and I couldn't handle it." 

"After I left, I immediately regretted it and almost went back, but I couldn't as I knew what was happening. My family was breaking apart and there was nothing I could do about it. After that, I couldn't bring myself to look back and find out what had happened, because that would mean I would know who was left. It was better to be alone and not aware than to know they were all dead." 

"After only a few days, a stranger could see that in me, but my own brother can't," I accused, gesturing to Jack and then Falcor himself. "You talk so much about family and caring for each other, but do you even know me at all? You say I am selfish, but what are you if you couldn't even see we were dropping like flies. All you concerned yourself with was the one closest to you, everyone else be damned. I'm truly sorry about what happened to you, but this isn't the way. This bloody path you find yourself on isn't you. If you actually love me like you say you do, come with me and stop this. We can work this out together. We can be a family again," I proposed hopefully, but I knew he wouldn't take the offer. 

As I spoke his anger had only grown. Falcor had always been one to give into his feelings, and they had been battered and suppressed for centuries. There was no way he was going to actually hear me and understand why I did what I did. He had already decided that I was to blame and was single-minded in his hatred for me. He was too far gone to listen to reason.

"You don't know the first thing about family," he denied angrily. "You never have! Even after everything, that hasn't changed. You call this creature your family now? If he died, you would just move on again like you did before." 

Those words both confirmed my suspicions and settled a resolve in me. This wasn't my brother. He had died a long time ago, and this was nothing more than the empty husk his body used to inhabit. I wanted nothing more than to protect him from any further harm, but I would die before I let him hurt Jack to get to me. 

"I could say the same thing about you," I shot, ready to attack at a moment's notice. "You think sticking around makes you better? You were never there for them I ALWAYS WAS. I was there when Cecily couldn't take it anymore and ripped out her core before jumping off a cliff. I was there when Edith fell in love and ran off with a human named Ralph to live her happily ever after that ended with them both contracting dysentery. But hey, at least they died together, right? I was there when Andreas lost a duel with a man he underestimated and bled out on the battlefield. I was there through it all, while you were spending all your time with your stupid birds. I should have expected you to come after me, because you can never let anything go!" I shouted, working myself up.

"ENOUGH!" he bellowed. "I've heard enough LIES. I had hoped to fix you and show you your mistakes, but now I see that isn't possible. You will meet the same fate as that human," he declared.

"Neither of us will be dying tonight," I vowed, drawing my staff.

"And who is going to stop me?" He sneered, drawing his spear.

"I will," I promised.

"Oh sister. Don't you know by now? Birds eat spiders," he taunted, and lept forward at the same time I did, meeting me in a combat for our very lives.


	15. The Fight

Falcor had always been stronger than me, but it seems he is out of practice. I suppose centuries of imprisonment will do that. His rustiness paired with how ill-suited his body is for combat after all that maltreatment should have made this an easy fight. However, there is something else in him that levels the playing field. He has this manic fury driving his actions, as well as a complete disregard for himself. He is so focused on killing us that he doesn’t care what happens to him or anyone else for that matter. He is fighting recklessly and chaotically, making it extremely difficult for me to predict his movements. 

Despite this, I am fighting for a cause. I am fighting for the life of my new brother as well as the life I have only just begun. That along with all the forms of combat I have perfected while he was off the grid shapes this fight up to be a rather even and interesting match. I am sure from the outside we look like a whirlwind, attacking and defending with barely a pause. Even so, out of the corner of my eye I see Jack picking up his shotgun and attempting to aim it at Falcor, no doubt trying to assist me. The idiot is going to get himself killed. I quickly pull out one of my best moves to knock Falcor back before rushing over to Jack. 

"Look, I know you wanna help, but he's too strong for you and I can't fight him if I'm worried about protecting you, so could you just-" I rush out before Falcor barrels into me at high speeds, almost skewering me on impact. This is really going to be a lot harder than I initially anticipated.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I had only felt this helpless once in my life: a decade ago when I watched my father get killed by the very man who was attacking my best friend. There was no way in hell I'm letting that happen again. There had to be something I can do. 'What affects ancients?' I brainstormed desperately. 'Oh man, this isn’t my area of expertise. Wait a minute, I have been living with one for quite some time now. That's as good of a case study as any, right? So, what affected Araina? Imprisonment, obviously. There was that one time with that candle store… when that lizard jumped out at her…I got it!'

One time when I wasn't thinking about it, I killed a stray spider on the table. It seemed to physically hurt her. She pouted for a good two hours before she was bored of that and wanted to talk again. It struck me that maybe it worked that way with all ancients and their correlating subjects. 'It's worth a shot.' I decided as I aimed my gun directly at the nearest bird and hit it square in the eye, a lifetime of hunting finally paying off. Then I looked up to see the damage. 

It worked! Falcor was thrown off balance with the suddenness of it, and Araina lunged forward to take advantage of the opening. Excitement was coursed through my veins as I saw her staff nearing his head. 'We are actually going to win!' I thought. 

Suddenly, I was knocked onto my butt as Falcor let out world-shaking scream. I registered that Araina had been thrown back as well a bit too late as he was now charging at me. I knew he is out of touch, but I was a slow, dumb human. I didn't stand a chance against him head on! I hadn't even gotten my arms up to protect myself before he was right on top of me. Suddenly, time practically stopped as I watched him pull back the spear, intent on ending my life.

I started resigning myself to my fate as the blade bore down on me, but fate had other plans. I had been right during that first encounter with Araina. The fates really do hate me. For in the split second before the weapon collided with me, Ari positioned herself between the two of us, simultaneously saving my life and ending Falcor's with a small knife to the skull.

Falcor immediately collapsed, dead before he hit the ground. In celebration, Ari turned around, offering me a blood-soaked smile before collapsing, clutching at the spear that now protruded from her chest.


	16. Words Fail

Blood blossomed around the shaft as she struggled to breathe. Her knees buckled and she fell to the ground. I rushed to her side, uncertain of what to do besides help somehow. I reached to remove the spear but remembered something I had read about how that would metastasize the injury and decided against it. I knew we had to stop the bleeding somehow, so I ripped off a piece of my shirt and pressed it against the wound like some sort of make-shift bandage. 

"Just stay with me," I pleaded, turning towards her face, but instead of the grimace I expected to find there, she was smiling even as her eyes began to tear up. 

"It's okay, Jack," she reassured.

"No, it's not," I responded. "We need to get you to a hospital, or you're going to die," I informed her, my panic only rising when I said those last words.

"I know, but that's okay," she specified. "I've lived long enough. You being alright is all I need."

"But I'm not alright!" I rejected. "You can't leave me here! I can't lose you like I've lost everyone else in my life!"

"Don't you see it by now? You haven't," she countered. "You have a sister and a wonderful nephew who love you enough to come all the way out here to see you. You have billions of people on this planet that you could meet if you just gave them a chance. The world didn't leave you behind; you left them."

"But how am I supposed to move on?" I argued. "Every time I let someone close to me, they die!" 

She exhaled a rather empty laugh. "You try. You just have to keep going. You'll be happy eventually." 

"I don't know how!" I cried desperately.

"That's the beautiful part," She consoled. "You get to learn."

I was a sobbing wreck at this point. I didn't want her to go. There was still so much to say. Still so much to do. She's the reason I even got this far. How was I supposed to figure anything out without her?

"Thank you," she whispered unexpectedly.

"For what?" I snuffled.

"For giving me your time," she explained. "I have spent centuries alone and lost. You showed me what life could be and helped me understand my past. I have lived more in these past few months than the eternity I could have lived without you."

"Huh," I laughed. "I guess we needed each other," I mused as her eyes started drifting closed.

"What a beautiful place to rest," she mumbled, drifting away even though I still held her. "In the arms of someone who loves me," were her final words before she died. 

Her body dissolved into light but left the world darker than it was before. I stayed where I was knelt on the ground sobbing uncontrollably until my body was out of tears. Even after that, I still didn't move for a long time, resorting to silent, dry agony. 

I have no idea how long I stayed there, but when I finally was ready to move my joints ached and I had to stretch out before I could stand up. I turned around and went back to the place we entered, only to find the birds had blocked it off while we were in there. Probably didn't want us escaping before Falcor could get to us. Oh well. I turned back around and resorted to wondering through the tunnels. At the back of the theatre we had fought in were several smaller openings.

He had every room necessary for a comfortable life and some that were not, including a dungeon with piles of bodies that I didn't even want to think about. I left that room as quickly as I entered it. He REALLY hated humans, far beyond what I had previously imagined. There was even a treasury of sorts, with all sorts of valuable items all piled together. 'Well, he was a bird. Makes since,' I thought before grabbing some gold and stuffing it in my bag. What? No one was using it anyway. 

I had almost gone through every room before I found the back exit. It was steep, but I climbed out into the night. I thought about how Ari would've loved the view from here. She was like that. She could neglect the past far too much, but she always appreciated the present. I was the opposite. I was too focused on the past to really see the here and now. That's the qualities we were lacking that we inspired in each other. I'd be stupid to forget that just because she was gone. So, for the first time in forever, I stopped to take in the view.

The moon was a waxing gibbous, giving enough light to see by, but not enough to obscure the stars around it. And the stars… they were peppering the sky as far as the eye could see, but they were twinkling. They seemed dulled somehow. Maybe they were weeping for the soul this world had lost. 

I liked to imagine that Ari was up with them now. Maybe then every time I marvel at the night sky, I would be marveling at her. Or maybe she was in some form of afterlife, finally reuniting with her family. I had never met her, but I was certain Cecily would be happy to see her. Then I started wondering if we would go to different places after we died. She was an entirely different being. Maybe we wouldn't even get to see each other again after I died. Or perhaps there wasn't an afterlife. Maybe she was reborn as a human, letting her completely experience the life of a mortal. She would love that. 

I snickered to myself as I imagined Falcor reborn as a slug or something. Preferably one that is in a city, so he had to spend his entire life around humans. Ari wouldn't want me to hate him for this. After all, it wasn't entirely his fault. The humans had made him this way. 'Oh well,' I shrugged. 'I never said I was perfect.' And with that thought, I started down the mountain to my truck, alone for the first time in months, yet more at peace at the same time.


	17. Epilogue

Don't get me wrong, I was torn up for a long time. I had ups and downs, but I finally figured life out. When I told Lydia that Ari had fallen off a cliff while we were mountain climbing, she was devastated. I told her that I had already called the authorities and that they had looked for a body but couldn't find one. Lydia organized multiple search parties and nearly burnt herself out looking for Ari, but eventually she had to give up. It hurt to see her like that, but I knew she had to work through it on her own like I was. 

A few weeks later, I moved in with her in the city and started working at a legitimate job while going to a trade school. I wanted to learn more and to be better. I met a lot of really cool people there, and even got my first girlfriend. Her name is Jenny (short for Janet), and she is the toughest girl I know. She is also near the top of her class in automotive engineering. I have no idea how I got so lucky, but I'm not complaining.

We married three years later and found out she was infertile a year after that. I was initially devastated, but she showed me that hope wasn't lost. We adopted two little boys named Eric and Issac, and I couldn't help but believe they were made for us. We lived a nice life and I believe we raised them well. I tried to be the father figure that had believed my dad to be.

Whenever I thought of my father now, what Falcor revealed to me rang in my ears. I had no idea who my father really was now. However, I decided not to dwell on what wouldn't be fixed. I would never find out who my father was and what he did, so why did I need to devote my time to it? 

When my boys were little, I would tell them the storied of the ancients. My wife was always skeptical about it, because she knew I never had much of an imagination, but she never questioned where I got it from. I just hoped it would help teach them what I had learned the hard way. I'm not sure what impact it had on Issac in the long run, but I know it stuck with Eric. He became a painter, and one of the first things he created was a rendering of the final battle in the caves. He didn't get their faces right, but I couldn't exactly correct them as it was supposed to be just a story, not real people. I hung it above the mantle, and laugh about it from time to time, wondering how they'd react if they knew it was true.

Issac was the opposite. He was always more scholarly while Eric was creative. However, they both held a fervor and a passion for their subjects. Issac became a mathematician in the end, working with all those smart people two states away. I miss him, but he visits and calls a lot, so I can't complain. 

Thus, ended the time of the ancients. There are none left now, survived only by those who were lucky enough to have their lives touched by them. A new era had begun, even if the rest of the world didn't know of it. The humans had been given a new start. It was up to us to keep the world in motion now. I could only be glad that I had the privilege of knowing one personally.


End file.
